|
|
 |
|
Many years ago when I was 17
years old I had another vision of love. It also came after a terrifying experience. Here is my story
with an up to date footnote:
|
WHY I DIDN'T DIE *
by Edwad
Graves
Harold!
Harold! Harold!" There was no response. "Harold!--------" I kept calling. Slumped
over the bent steering wheel was the limp form of my friend, Harold Beeler. One
twisted arm lay on the battered dash. In front of it was the gas tank, and directly
in front of the tank a tiny finger of flame crept closer and closer along the engine of the wrecked Model A Ford. The small blaze cast an ominous glow into the dark night.
I saw it all. The left door on the coupe was gone,
and with the fire growing every second, I saw the terrible scene, but I couldn't move.
My legs were paralyzed. I was lying in mud and gravel twenty feet from
the car. My body was in agony but my mind was racing. Was Harold dead? Apparently a long one-inch pipe from the trailer load we had been pulling had pierced his head. Several others had stabbed through the back of the seat and the windshield.
I could see their ends sticking out like so many marshmallow sticks over the blaze.
"Harold! Harold! Harold!!----"
He had been a good fellow---a hard-working, energetic young man.
He had a very pleasant home, a friendly attractive wife, and three beautiful children. I needed money to start college
and Harold had hired me for the summer as a carpenter's helper.
"Now he is dead," I thought. "The tank will soon explode and that will be the end for me, too"
"Oh, God, save us," I prayed; "I'll try harder.
I'll work harder. I'll be better; only save us!"
It was like some dreadful nightmare. We had plunged at fifty miles an hour into a dark empty
hole. The blacktop highway had been washed out.
There had been no warnings.
"Harold! Harold Beeler! Hey!" Desperately I kept calling, "Harold! Har----" He moved his head! He was alive! He moved only a little
and very slowly, but at least he moved. His head was all right; the pipe had
missed! "Get out of there! The car's
going to blow up!'
Slowly turning his head in my direction, he said, calmly and unconcernedly, "I can't," then slumped
back onto the steering wheel. Wouldn't he ever wake up? I continued to scream at him.
Other cars would be coming. They might pile in on
top of us. We had left them behind at the last gravel wash. There had been a cloudburst in the mountains. The dry gravel
washes, which were usually the roller-coaster-fun dips of the road, had become raging streams.
On our way home for the weekend, with a small trailer load of salvaged pipe, we had come upon four cars stopped by
the first of these miniature rivers. One driver had ventured to cross without
first checking the depth and had stalled his new car in water above the floorboard.
Harold had hooked a chain onto the car and pulled it out; then he had made a few adjustments on his Model A and pulled
the others through. Then, after the last car was across, we hooked the trailer
back on and drove to the next stream and repeated the process.
He and I were both wet, tired, and two hours behind schedule when we finally reached the last wash. In the orange glow of sunset we saw before us a shimmering sheet of water an eighth of a mile wide. A crew of men had been stationed there to assist and direct traffic. They had halted all low-clearance vehicles, but when they saw the Model A, they waved us through. When
we reached the paved highway, Harold stepped hard on the accelerator in order to make up for lost time. He said, "I bet we get to Yuma before those other cars catch up."
The lights were dim--but he knew the road by heart. This section was excellent,
and even with the trailer on behind, the speedometer moved gradually past the fifty mark.
Then, suddenly the road was gone.
I had seen the hole---too late---too late to utter one sound.
I remember falling amid bars and pipes. It seemed like I was falling and
falling forever through blackness, lightning flashes, and confusion. Then everything
seemed dark and quiet. I found myself on top of some wreckage. Something like a voice had urged, "Get off! Get away from
here!" I had no feeling in my body, yet my arms had worked very well--pulling
me off the twisted metal and dragging my body over twenty feet of mud and rocks before stopping.
Harold was hearing me now. He was moving his head. He looked around stupidly. He repeated,
unnaturally-- like one in a trance, "I can't," and added, "my foot's caught."
"Well, unfasten it! Listen to me, Harold," I cried; "you've got to get out of there. The car
door's open. Just fall out! Unfasten
your foot and fall out! That's it. Fall
out! Now, crawl over here. " Like a slow-moving robot he obeyed. After he splashed
in the cool mud, he stood to his feet and staggered to me. "Drag me out of here!
We're too close. Other cars will be on top of us," I said.
He pulled me only about six feet and fell backward into the mud.
He buried his head in his hands and moaned, "Oh, what a terrible nightmare; what a terrible nightmare!"
"No! It's real," I said. Then it struck me as being funny and, in spite of the terrible pain
that had suddenly developed, I laughed.
"We better pray." He spoke earnestly, and then, "Dear Lord, save us. Don't let that gas tank
explode, and--and--stop the cars from coming in on top of us. Save us. Amen."
Silently I added, "If You save me, I'll go to school. I'll
do anything. If You want me to, I'll even preach."
Then we waited---it seemed like hours, but it was actually only a few minutes. The pain had become so intense that I kept blacking out momentarily.
I was fearful that I was about to die, and I wasn’t ready for that. I
reviewed the whole past history of my life. Could this be the end? It would be a terrible shock to my parents.
My parents, pioneers of Arizona’s Yuma
Valley farming district, had struggled with the soil, built irrigation ditches,
and fought the gophers in order to provide the better things of life for their children.
They worked hard in the 110 degree sun heated cotton fields to pay the extra cost of boarding schools.
Mother hoped I would be a preacher someday. In fact
she had said that I was dedicated to God before I was born. Her favorite time for meditation and devotion was during milking
time, and many times to the rhythmic zing-zing, zing-zing, of the milk striking the pail she would sing her favorite hymns. It was during this chore that she made her bargain with God. If she could have a boy, she would give him to God as a minister.
She would train and educate him to be of the best possible service to humanity.
My parents kept their promise and did their part---but I hadn’t always cooperated.
Lying in the mud and swooning in misery, I promised God that if I ever got out alive, I would
never complain again. I'd never murmur about hard work or sore muscles. I would study hard. I would even do the
very hardest thing--at least, I would try--I would lay aside my pride and fear and actually talk before groups. I dreaded the thought, but I promised that I would even take public speaking. I would be willing to take the whole ministerial course. I
would----
Suddenly above us on the highway there was a screech of brakes.
Then we heard a woman's voice as she shouted back to someone, "Oh no!--they're down here!—Oh my God! They’re
burning up!"
We were so happy we laughed and cried at the same time.
I yelled back, "We're over here! We're okay. Come and get us!"
A few minutes later two men came with flashlights. One helped Harold up
the west bank, and some others came and carried me up the east bank, where all the cars were.
The only town nearby was Yuma,
twenty miles to the west on the other side of that terrible chasm. Some of the
people tooted their horns and turned on their headlights hoping to attract attention.
A farmer living three miles away thought he heard an explosion somewhere and drove out to investigate. After driving up and down the highway a couple of miles, he was almost ready to give
up his search and return home when he spotted the headlights and heard the horns. He
rushed Harold to the doctor and ordered an ambulance to hurry back for me.
The stranded people were wonderful. They carried
blankets from their cars and did everything they could to help me. A first-aid
nurse cut away my trousers, examined my legs, and tried her best to make me comfortable.
I was freezing with shock, so she wrapped all the available blankets around me and offered a pill to relieve my pain. I refused it. I fearfully insisted, "It
might knock me out for good." One white-haired man stayed beside me, gripping
my hand and gently rubbing my arm. I don't know who he was, but I appreciated it so much.
He seemed to me like an angel. I needed someone to hold on to, and he
was there--Johnny on the spot--angel on the spot!” (Please read my footnote.)
Two days later I was home in bed recovering from my fractured hip and dislocated leg. Don Long, the clown of our carpenter crew, came to see me. "You know," he said, and he was speaking very
seriously, "I was out and looked at the wreck, and there is something miraculous about it.
That two-wheeled trailer slid in underneath the car so perfectly that all four wheels are in it, and the pipe that
had been in the trailer shot through your car like dozens of spears. There wasn't
room for one person to sit in that car. I stood on top of the wreck and couldn't see the top of the roadway. The washout must have been fifteen feet deep and forty feet wide, and yet you fellows almost jumped over
it. The hood, some tools, and, believe it or not, even Harold's glasses were
on the opposite bank. I'll tell you," he concluded, "God surely had His arms
around you."
Today I realize more and more how very true his statement was.
As I marvel about it and consider the why of it, the story of Jonah and the whale comes vividly to mind, and I understand
the reason. Sometimes it takes a "whale-belly" experience to put a man on the
right track.
*FOOTNOTE: This story as published in “These Times”
magazine May, 1958, closed with the following paragraph: --
"Today, as a qualified surgeon, Dr. Harold Beeler contributes much to the welfare of humanity
as he practices the art of healing, that blessed art of relieving physical pain. Today
I, too, perform surgery. With the “Sword of the Spirit” I operate,
and with the cords of God’s love I bind and heal the souls of men."
Footnote: Now today, many years after the event, I want to say that I am certain the white
haired man was an angel sent from God. I was lying in pain on the paved
road for almost 2 hours. A nurse and other people were helpful as they came and
went. But they never spoke to the man that came and stayed with me as though
they never saw him. In the darkness I could not see faces of others very well
but his face I will never forget. His face was clear and youthful even though
his hair was a wavy white. Another strange thing is that his face was down almost
level with mine next to the pavement as he held onto my hand with a strong firm grip.
It would be difficult for a person to maintain that position without lying down on the road with me. He stayed with me at least an hour. He told me I was going to be alright. I
wasn’t hallucinating. I had a strong hand to grip onto. I really think it was an angel, perhaps my guardian angel. Someone
recently asked a group if they ever saw an angel and I raised my hand. That didn’t go over very well with the skeptical
leader of the group. No matter what others may say I still believe it was an
epiphany experience. I believe God sent me a vision of love, a real angel from the throne of God .
|
"Not until
the providences of God are seen in the light of eternity shall we understand what we owe to the care and interposition of
His angels. ... They have accepted the hospitalities of human homes; they have acted as guides to benighted travelers.
They have thwarted the spoiler's purpose and turned aside the stroke of the destroyer." {Ed 304.4}
All
power in heaven and in earth has been given to Jesus and from his throne he sends his angels to guide and protect us
here on earth. He is our divine-human brother interceding for us in the highest court of heaven.
Job 33:24 LB declares: "But if a messenger from heaven
is there to intercede for him as a friend, to show him what is right, then
God pities him and says, `Set him free. Do not make him die, for I have found a substitute.” (NKJ = `Deliver him from going down to
the Pit; I have found a ransom';)
And it was necessary for Jesus to be like us, his brothers, so that
he could be our merciful and faithful High Priest before God, a Priest who would be both merciful to us and faithful to God
in dealing with the sins of the people... Jesus
lives forever and continues to be a Priest so that no one else is needed.
He
is able to save completely all who come to God through him. Since he will live forever, he will always be there to remind
God that he has paid for their sins with his blood.
What we are saying is this: Christ, whose priesthood we have just described, is our High Priest, and is in heaven at the place
of greatest honor next to God himself. He
ministers in the temple in heaven, the true place of worship built by the Lord and not by human hands.
He came as High Priest of this better system which we
now have. He went into that greater, perfect tabernacle in heaven, not made by men nor part of this world, and once for all took blood into that inner room, the
Holy of Holies, and sprinkled it on the mercy seat; but it was not the blood of goats and calves. No, he took his own blood,
and with it he, by himself, made sure of our eternal salvation. - Heb.2:17; 7:24-25; 8:1-2; 9:11-12.LB.
"We look to self, as though we had power to save
ourselves; but Jesus died for us because we are helpless to do this. In Him is our
hope, our justification, our righteousness. We should not despond and fear that we have no Saviour or that He has no
thoughts of mercy toward us. At this very time He is carrying on His work in our behalf, inviting us to come to Him in our
helplessness and be saved. . . " {FW 36.2}
"...God so loved the world, that having given
his Son, who was equal with himself, he could not withhold heaven itself. . . 'God commendeth his love toward us, in that,
while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. Much more then, being now justified by his blood, we shall be saved from wrath
through him. For if, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by his life." {YI, December 13, 1894 par. 2}
|
 Since 1844, the Supreme Court of Heaven
has been in session, the record books have been opened and the investigative judgement of every man on earth is being
reviewed.
The Bible says, "Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his
commandments: for this is the whole duty of man. For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing,
whether it be good or whether it be evil." - Eccl.12:13-14
"And
I saw a great white throne and the one who sat upon it, from whose face the earth and sky fled away, but they found no place
to hide. I saw the dead, great and small, standing before God; and The Books
were opened, including the Book of Life. And the dead were judged according to the things written in The Books, each according
to the deeds he had done." - Rev. 20:11-12.LB
Jesus sits on a throne before
the representatives of the universe as the redeemer of all the inhabitants of planet earth. He is our friend and defender
pleading his blood for our justification and his holy life for our sanctification.
"I
was shown what did take place in heaven at the close of the prophetic periods in 1844... Jesus ended His ministration in the holy place ... Jesus then clothed Himself with
precious garments. ... Upon His head was something which had the appearance of a crown. When fully attired, He was surrounded
by angels, and in a flaming chariot He passed within the second veil. {EW 251.2}
|
As Jesus died on Calvary, He cried, "It is finished,"
and the veil of the temple was rent in twain, from the top to the bottom. This was to show that the services of the earthly
sanctuary were forever finished, and that God would no more meet with the priests in their earthly temple, to accept their
sacrifices. The blood of Jesus was then shed, which was to be offered by Himself in the heavenly sanctuary. As the priest
entered the most holy once a year to cleanse the earthly sanctuary, so Jesus entered the most holy of the heavenly, at the
end of the 2300 days of Daniel 8, in 1844, to make a final atonement for all who could be benefited by His mediation, and
thus to cleanse the sanctuary. -- {EW 253.1}
A View of Events Occurring at the End of the 2300
Days.
I saw a throne, and on it sat the Father and the
Son. I gazed on Jesus' countenance and admired his lovely person. The Father's person I could not behold, for a cloud of glorious
light covered him. I asked Jesus if his Father had a form like himself. He said he had, but I could not behold it, for said
he, if you should once behold the glory of his person you would cease to exist... And I saw the Father rise from the throne,
and in a flaming chariot go into the Holy of Holies, within the veil, and did sit. Then Jesus rose up from the throne... And
I saw a cloudy chariot, with wheels like flaming fire, and angels were all around it as it came where Jesus was. He stepped
into the chariot and was borne to the Holiest where the Father sat. There I beheld Jesus, standing before the Father, a great
High Priest.." {ExV 43.1}
Let us be thankful that Jesus lives 4 us! He paid 4 us, he bled 4 us, he died 4 us, and he
now lives 4 us. Soon the Supreme Court in heaven will finish the investigative Judgement and probation will close. The
Lord's loving appeal to mankind to return to the Father's house will end. Jesus will lay aside the office of High
Priest, put on his Kingly robes and return to this earth in great power and glory to receive those who have chosen him
as King of kings and Lord of lords.
Yes, Jesus came into this world as a holy child, lived a perfectly obedient life, tasted the second death experience in
Gethsemane, died a shameful death, rose up the third day as prophecied, ascended into heaven, and now lives forever
as the Redeemer of the human race. Soon he will return to receive his loyal people.
Next page = Jesus comes 4 us
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
